


Sweet Creature

by LoKandGoT



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, Fluff and Angst, SuperCorp, i'll tag more stuff once its revealed in the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-11-07 05:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11052444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoKandGoT/pseuds/LoKandGoT
Summary: She is not a stalker. Really she’s not. And while, admittedly, following one of her classmates gives off a very “stalkery” vibe. That is not the case. In fact, Kara Danvers has a very logical explanation for her late night “exploits”.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! So I have fallen hopelessly and endlessly in love with Supercorp or Karalena as others prefer. This is just one of my many head cannons. And also my first Supercorp fic so I would be really grateful if you guys would leave comments. Let me know what you liked. What you hated. Legit anything. I live on comments. Especially ones that have specific lines that moved you or made you laugh or whatever. 
> 
> Oh also I've been vibing off of Harry Style's Sweet Creature for this, so if you want a good listening companion check that out.
> 
> Anyways,  
> Thanks! And much love.  
> LoKandGoT

She is not a stalker. Really she’s not. And while, admittedly, following one of her classmates gives off a very “stalkery” vibe. That is not the case. In fact, Kara Danvers has a very logical explanation for her late night “exploits”.

The first being that she is the junior class President and yes, she really is the President. Check the records. Despite what Siobhan Smythe claims about Kara cheating, she won fair and square. Technically, it’s her job to know everything and everyone.

The second being that she is a journalism major. Being nosy and sneaking through the shadows is in her blood. Not to mention as a senior member of the National Inquirer she has her own column. And being the people person that she is, Kara has dedicated her column to the student body of National City University.

The University’s very own ‘People of New York’ as she likes to say.

So really, when she walked into the lecture hall for her late night Mass Media Law class, it shouldn’t be very shocking that she was struck dumb when she spotted the figure in the back row.

The girl was just about Kara’s age. Twenty but more likely twenty-one. And giving off a very distinct “don’t talk to me” vibe. The Beats headphones and blaring music being the first clue. 

The second being the wardrobe. National City University was proudly ranked number one in the most spirited student body survey that was taken last year. And as such most students wear at least some form of color in their outfits.

But apparently, not dark and gloomy in the back row. No. Instead she was rocking all black. Black leather jacket, black tee, black pants (rips in the knees and all), and to top it all off a set of black combat boots.

The undercut hair style definitely gave her an edgy vibe, but the black RayBan wayfarers propped on her nose definitely (for some odd reason) really toppled her over the edge into badass.

As far as Kara could tell the sunglasses were needed for one of three reasons. To help with her “don’t mess with me” persona. To help reduce the pain of a headache from a hangover. Or to cover up the fact that she was going to be sleeping through the class. But Kara didn’t think she needed to put that much effort into it. The student in the front row slack jawed, drooling, and snoring logs, a testament to the professor’s either obliviousness or zero concern for uninterested students. Although Kara tends to think it’s more of the latter based off of the Rate My Professor scores she found on Professor Non.

Needless to say, Kara was intrigued. Although, not on the topic of Journalism Ethics as Non would perhaps like. But rather the mysterious girl sitting twelve rows back.

Late night classes were the bane of her and almost every other student’s existence. They, along with 8 AM lectures, were something to be avoided. With Kara’s busy schedule and the few sections offered for this class, the 6-9 PM was the only one she could fit into.

She knew the names of almost every student on campus. (Being President has its perks. Not to mention her older sister is a senior this year and thus Kara knows all of the senior class as well.) And she certainly knows everyone in her late class. There were only 80 students in a lecture hall meant for 200, for goodness sakes. It wasn’t that hard to memorize all of their names.

So when a new student shows up Kara is going to notice. And when said student glances in Kara’s direction before snapping her head back to the white board as if burned, Kara is _definitely_ going to notice. She tries to get her attention as Non lets their class out twenty minutes late, but raven hair flashes around the corner and out of sight.

But certainly not out of mind.

* * *

 

Non’s class is once a week and despite Kara’s best efforts to catch up with the new comer after class, she has failed for three weeks in a row. Not to mention the fact that she’s been keeping her eyes peeled around campus for the elusive girl, though she has had no such luck at finding even a trace of her. Local coffee shops, lounges, hell even classrooms. Nothing.

So Kara takes up wandering through the aisles. There was nothing in the library’s ‘yearbooks through the years’ section nor the in the University’s newspaper archives. Although she did find a small clipping about a student that had died in a car accident in ’65 that looked startling similar. Minus the undercut of course.

Since she’s not paying attention in class anyways, Kara devises a plan. A rather foolproof one if she might add. One that she is rather proud of. Packing up ten minutes before class lets out, she makes her way out of the classroom (Non doesn’t even bat an eye) and hovers in the hallway. As per usual stormy is the first one out.

She gives a wide berth, breaking into a light jog to keep up. Super sleuth that she is, Kara keeps to the dusky shadows, dodging newly lit street lamps and anything else that might give her away.

They both round the corner of the Engineering School’s building when dark and gloomy disappears in thin air. Kara stops in her tracks. There was no conceivable way for her to have lost her. She was only twenty feet away at all times. She didn’t slip into a building and she didn’t-

“Why are you following me?” The growl sounds behind her.

If Kara were to have a heart attack at a young age, now would be the time.

She whips around, hand on her erratically beating heart, and a flush creeping into her cheeks at being caught.

“Golly, you scared me.”

She receives a quirked brow and an almost imperceptible twitch of the corner of the girl’s mouth. But both are gone faster than Kara had managed to see them.

“Why are you following me?” she says again. And if the scowl on her face wasn’t a good enough indication, the sudden predatory stalking towards Kara, definitely let her know that she was not happy.

Kara lifts her hands in a placating gesture, “I’m not following you. Merely just wanting to say hello. I’ve never seen you around before.”

Mystery girl’s eyes narrow into a scrutinizing glare before she turns on her heel and stalks away. Kara jumps into a jog to catch up, shocked at how fast this girl can walk. Kara prattles off a list of questions. Grunts and the occasional ‘no’ her only responses.

“Do you know my sister Alex? She’s a senior. Studying Bioengineering. She’s really smart. You must be a senior. Are you new this year? Oh. Or maybe a transfer?”

The girl’s shoulders slump as she slows to a stop. The knowledge that Kara probably isn’t going to stop bothering her anytime soon finally getting her to acknowledge the journalists presence.

Startlingly clear green eyes appear behind the RayBans as she takes them off, folding them and tucking them into the V of her t-shirt.

“Look, Kara, I don’t know your sister. I’m _certainly_ not new here.” If it was possible her shoulders seem to slump even more, her eyes darting over Kara’s face. “Now, please,” it comes out soft and pleading. She blinks a few times, her eyes struggling, shifting between dejected and hopeful, “I have to go.”

Kara takes a step back, realizing the look in her eyes. Realizing that her questions are only making things worse. This girl has lost someone close to her. Kara is familiar with that blank stare. With the sadness that just seems to seep from dry eyes. She’s seen it for far too long in Alex’s eyes after their dad died.

She nods and takes a few more steps back. The girl stares at Kara for a few more seconds before walking away.

“Wait!” Kara shouts with the sudden realization that she knew Kara’s name, yet Kara didn’t know hers. “What’s your name?”

A sweet voice floats back with the breeze.

Kara takes it and chews the name around in her own mouth before she whispers, “See you around, Lena.”

* * *

 

Kara has never been one to give up. Even from the time she was a child.

She’s never met her birth mother, Alura and Jor El died tragically in a house fire, but the Danvers took her in and replaced the family that she never got to know. Eliza has countless stories where Kara got into anything and everything. Most of the time it would be her adoptive sister’s Alex’s diary. Which Kara no matter what, would find in every _single_ hiding spot that Alex could think of. And despite the numerous threats, Kara kept finding the diaries.   

So the next class she drops into the seat next to Lena; giving her, her brightest smile.

There is no response at first. Lena’s face remaining as passive as ever and her eyes, which Kara suspects are far more expressive than Lena would like, remain hidden behind her sunglasses. 

She doesn’t say anything, or acknowledge Kara at all really. But by the end of the class she has shifted an infinitesimal amount closer and Kara thinks that perhaps not talking at all can be just as enlightening as her incessant questions can be.

* * *

 

Lena is in the same spot every class period and Kara, while somewhat begrudgingly at losing her spot in the T Zone of the classroom, has changed her unofficial assigned seat to be next to Lena.

Most nights she doesn’t get more than a grunt out of the girl, but when Lena actually asks Kara how she is doing, she thinks they are making progress.

* * *

 

It’s late. Far past Kara’s usual ten o’clock bed time. But she had to stay late working on her latest newspaper article. It needed to be submitted before the latest edition came out the next morning.

If she’s being quite honest she is exhausted. The late nights and extra extracurriculars taking their toll on her body. She yawns, not even bothering to cover it, trudging along the side walk toward her apartment.

All of the storefronts are closed at this hour, except for one. A warm glow shines through its windows, oddly welcoming compared to its rusting and half burnt out sign.

Cup o’ Joe.

While Kara had never been inside the little coffee shop, she had noticed it had odd hours. It was never open before seven at night and usually closed before the morning sun rose. Perhaps they catered to a special clientele, but Kara couldn’t imagine they had that many customers coming in at midnight for a cup of coffee.

Kara stops mid-step, her eyes landing on a very familiar haircut through the window, and suddenly a cup of coffee sounds very appetizing.

The shop is quite small. And clearly lacking a decent color palette if the three different shades of black that everything seems to be is any indication. Lena must feel at home here. A large book shelf covers one of the walls and books that have to be decades old line them. Large leather bound books and odd trinkets placed sporadically between.

A bell rings to indicate her arrival and every single head looks up. Kara’s cheeks bloom a healthy shade of red at the sudden attention. She picks at the sleeve of her cardigan, suddenly self-conscious of being the only shades of pink in a sea of black. Her mouth ticks up in an embarrassed smile and her hand unconsciously goes up to adjust her glasses as she takes a few more steps into the store, glancing at the board of all the drink options.

She grimaces at the names.

Hemoglobin roast.

Cappuccino Negative.

Plasmaspresso.

Well, she had to give them an A+ for creativity. If they were going for that coffee is the life blood of the human race vibe, of course. Otherwise it’s rather grotesque.  

She’s debating between the plasmaspresso and the café clot when a rough hand grabs onto the strap of her backpack and drags her out of the shop.

“Hey!” she huffs indignantly, turning to glare at those eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m getting a coffee,” she says, crossing her arms with another annoyed humph. She would think it would be rather obvious.

Lena glares at her for a long few seconds, her eyes darting between Kara’s, and her lips dropping into a disapproving frown.

“Go home, Kara.” 

Kara scoffs, outraged at Lena’s audacity.

"This is a public establishment, Lena." Its haughty and dramatic, she knows it is, but she can't help the way that Lena's words irk her. "I can be here if I want to be."

Lena's jaw grinds. "You only came in here because you saw me in here."

"Well, excuse me for trying to be nice and wanting to get to know you."

This gets a reaction out of Lena. Other than the permanent frown etched on her face. Kara barely has a moment to appreciate the soft features before they morph back into the usual scowl. 

"Go home," Lena growls again. 

Kara scoffs once more before turning on her heel and leaving the store. The tiny tinkle of the jingle bell above the door making her exit a far happier one than she had wanted.

She’s mid-mind rant to herself when a hand tugs on her backpack once more, pulling her into an alleyway.

 “What Lena?” she shouts, jerking around to get the hand off of her bag.

She expects to see those familiar green eyes. Except she’s met with a scruffy beard and harsh pair of brown.

A glint catches in the moonlight and her eyes shift to follow its movement. It’s all in slow motion when he lurches forward, knife first. It slices through her shirt sleeve, ripping through her bicep. She shouts, only to have it cut off, and the air ripped from her with another swift tug to her bag. The ground meets her like an old friend, her head whipping back and cracking on the concrete.

“Just give me the damn bag, bi-”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish.

His body goes flying back, smacking into the dumpster with a sickening crunch. Kara manages to sit up, her vision swirling and nausea roaring through her stomach. A figure looms over the man, picking him up by the collar of his shirt and letting out a growl that rumbles through even Kara’s chest. 

Kara tries to stay focused, blinking back the black that is encroaching on her vision. When she manages to get her bearings once more the man is on the ground, bleeding, and Lena is hovering over her. Pale hands, knuckles splashed with red, linger around her, afraid to touch.

Lena’s face crumbles into a scowl and she places the back of her hand under her nose. “Kara, you’re bleeding.” It’s muffled and distorted, but Kara makes it out and places a hand on the back of her head. A strange sticky warmth greets her and she barely manages an ‘ouch’ before the darkness takes over once more.  


	2. Chapter 2

Polite hands gripping her shins and a very gentle voice rouse Kara from the unconsciousness she had unwillingly slipped into.

She’s greeted with the harsh, lingering scent of disinfectant and blinding lights. Such a contrast to the face smiling softly at her groggy features. But her body has a much different reaction to the curiosity of her mind.

Kara shoots up from the bed, her arm giving out under her weight. A gasp barges its way past her lips and her brain careens at the sudden spike in her motion.

“Whoa! Whoa!” the doctor calls out placing her hands carefully on Kara’s shoulders and pushing her back onto the bed. “Honey, you need to calm down. You’re safe now.”

Determined, Kara tries once more to sit up but the shearing pain in her arm forces her down once more. Her hand flies to her right arm and is met with the warmth of her own blood.

A few disappointed tsks from her right forces Kara to look back to her caretaker. “It looks like you tore a few stiches.” She rounds the bed before pulling on gloves and sitting down on the rolling chair that every medical professional seems to have.

“I’m Dr. M’orzz,” the bandage peels away with little fuss and Kara is greeted by a gluttony of stiches. “You, my dear, are in National City General.”

The needle and thread glint ominously in the light and Kara has to look away, suddenly light headed and squeamish.

“Can you tell me your name?” Dr. M’orzz prompts, clearly trying to keep Kara’s mind off her arm and vomit off of the bed.

She swallows hard, her throat feeling like an old rusted pipe, and a much better understanding to the simile of mouths being like deserts. “Kara Danvers.”

“Well, Kara, it’s very nice to meet you. And you are very lucky. A few more centimeters to the right and there would have been a lot more damage to your arm,” she finishes with a tug and a prompt snip of the thread.

Looking up from her work, face soft and kind and open, “Do you remember what happened?”

Kara nods because yes she remembers it all. She remembers leaving the coffee shop. And she remember the knife and the man trying to take her back pack and she remembers…

“Lena!” she shouts.

Dr. M’orzz hums, another placating hand laying itself on her shoulder. “So that’s the name of your rescuer. The police couldn’t get much out of her. Other than she found you in that alleyway. Bleeding.”

“Is she here?” Kara finds herself asking. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know. She disappeared before anyone could ask any more questions.”

Kara leans back with a sigh, eyes closing with a shocking amount of exhaustion weighing them down.

“Kara, you suffered a mild concussion and a very deep laceration on your right bicep.” She makes her point with a light squeeze to her arm. “We would like to keep you overnight for observation. Which means I’ll be checking in on you periodically to make sure you don’t fall asleep for more than 30 minutes at a time, alright?”

The blonde can only nod.

“Good.” A smile. “Now is there anyone you’d like to call? Your ID wasn’t with you when you were brought in so we weren’t able to notify anyone.”

“Yes, please. My sister.”

“Alright,” she grips Kara’s hand, “I’ll send a nurse in soon and we will get that call set up.”

She leaves without a fuss and another smile and soon Kara is alone.

* * *

 

 “Alex?”

 A grumble, “Kara… what the hell? It’s like 4AM. What do you want?”

“Can you pick me up from the hospital?”

A shout, a few swears, and a litany of questions asking if she is okay burst from the receiver.

“You are never gonna believe what happened.”

* * *

 

 Alex shows up a measly twenty minutes later, hair disheveled and a steely look that could kill.

She bullies the nurse into letting her stay the night and throws Kara her extra set of glasses, grumbling about how it was her third pair she has broken this year.

* * *

 

When the sun finally has made its way high into the sky, Dr. M’orzz comes in and clears her to leave on the condition that Alex makes sure she doesn’t stimulate her brain too much.

“That means no school work, no tiny screen, no reading.” It’s paired with a waggled finger.

Honestly, Kara doesn’t mind that too much. She’s been needing a break for a while so this can be her perfect excuse.

And when Alex drives her home, she makes a nose dive straight for her couch, moaning into its wonderfully soft cushions.

Her sister plops down next to her, picking her feet up and resting them atop her legs, and turns on the TV.

“In other news, a local man, now identified as John Corben, is in critical condition at National City General. Corben was placed in the ICU after being brutally beaten and left in an alleyway near 3rd street. NCPD are unsure of the reason behind the attack, but believe it to have been a mugging. It is unclear when Corben will be released from the ICU.”

Kara looks up. Blinking at the blurry picture of Corben. His face is an ugly array of black and blue. Lip split and cheeks crushed. But she would recognize that scruffy beard and that particular shade of brown eyes anywhere.  

“Oh my god.”

Alex whips her head toward her.

“What?”

“That’s the guy,” Kara points at the screen, where the news caster is now doing a segment on grape smashing. “That’s the guy that attacked me.”

* * *

 

Kara is allowed to go back to classes a week later. Alex had been bringing Kara her homework (rather unwillingly she might add; claiming it was Kara’s puppy dog eyes that made her do it) and her friends would scan her their notes. So she wasn’t too far behind. But she wanted. No. Needed to get back to class.

Not because she was worried about missing another lecture. But rather because she needed to talk to Lena. She needed to know what happened that night.

But to her disappointment (and rather not shockingly) Lena is nowhere to be seen.

As the next week passes and still no sight of the girl, Kara finally gives in and asks Professor Non. Only to receive a snarky mind you own business. And a much softer, if you must know she is taking a leave of absence for personal health issues.

* * *

 

Kara has an insatiable need to ask questions. And a limitless desire to get answers. So when Lena finally shows up two weeks later, she has a hell of a lot of explaining to do.

Kara has been patiently waiting, going to her unassigned assigned seat every week. Waiting for the mystery girl to show up once more. And when she does, Lena looks like she has been through a wringer. If it was possible her skin appears even paler, blue veins sneaking their way up her arms. Her hair, pulled into a messy bun, lacks its natural shine. Even her wardrobe has changed. Gone is the all black and instead she wears dark wash ripped jeans, a simple grey tank top, and a deep crimson almost black bomber jacket (complete with military insignia’s along the arms). Her feet are kicked out, a pair of flawlessly clean black Chuck Taylors, bouncing on the back of the chair in front of her. Really the only part that hasn’t changed are the signature RayBans still placed primly on her nose.

Lena sits exactly ten seats away from Kara. And Kara manages about ten seconds before she gets up, ignoring Non’s pointed cough, and sits right next to her. She stiffens, inching her body away from Kara, feet dropping unceremoniously to the floor.

“Lena,” she whispers from the corner of her mouth. Lena looks away, back going ramrod straight.

“Lena,” Kara tries again, hissing out an unnecessary, “we need to talk.”

There is another cough from the front, and Non, for literally the first time in the semester seems to care about what his students are doing. “Ms. Danvers.” So he does know her name. “Since you and Ms. Luthor seem to be so buddy-buddy and feel the need to interrupt my class. You can be partners for our next project.”

Kara purses her lips and nods, rather happy with this unexpected, yet none-the-less helpful reprimand.

Lena on the other hand jumps up with a startling speed, but nearly keels over the minute she is upright. She grasps onto the chair in front of her and starts to protest with a strangely weak voice, but Non waves her off and continues with his instructions.          

She is positively fuming, brows furrowed so far that they are hidden behind her sunglasses. Her eyes dart over to Kara before she rips her bag from the floor and storms out of the classroom. Kara is up and out of her seat in a flash, no more than a few feet behind Lena, shouting out for her to stop.

Reaching out she snakes her hand around Lena’s sleeved bicep, but immediately recoils when Lena whips around like she was just set on fire. Her mouth drops open in what sounds like  an almost strangled apology, but she stops when all she gets is wide eyes and a stammering Kara.

“I’m sorry,” Kara says, hand still awkwardly hovering in the air between them.

Lena shakes her apology away and takes a few steps back.

“Lena, please.” She is begging at this point and if that doesn’t stop Lena she doesn’t know what will. “Please. I just want to talk about what happened that night. I need to know what happened. If anything happened to me? If he did anything to me?”

It had come to her mind, the night after she got home from the hospital, that her attacker. That Corben. Could have done _something_ to Kara after he knocked her down. After her head cracked against the concrete. She had blacked out partially. Who knows what happened during that time.

It’s Lena’s turn to step forward this time. To reach out a comforting hand between them. She stops, just short of Kara’s hand.

“I didn’t let that hap-” she cuts herself off with an alarmed swallow.

“What?” Kara questions, flashes of Corben’s beaten face flashing through her mind.

Lena takes a heavy breath and peels her sunglasses away. Kara almost gasps at the sight.

Lena looks absolutely exhausted the moment the sunglasses are gone. Her body sags, almost as if the sunglasses are the only things that were keeping her upright. Dark rings bleed down from under Lena’s eyes. Puffy and drained. She closes her eyes and keeps them shut, almost as if she is composing herself.

“Lena,” Kara breathes, inching forward with the sudden need to sweep her thumb along the sleepless bruising. She doesn’t.

“It’s nothing,” Lena exhales, “I just haven’t been getting enough sleep lately.”

Kara doesn’t want to believe it, but the haunted look in Lena’s eyes speaks only volumes to the truth.

“I have to go Kara,” she takes a few stumbling steps back, “I talk to you later, okay?”

* * *

 

“Police and veterinarians alike are scrambling to find the cause of death to a local farmers cows.”

Kara blinks away the bleariness from her eyes, yawning and stretching out the kinks in her back from inadvertently falling asleep on her couch.

The screen flashes to a stereotypical bright red barn with white trim, complete with the herd of cows meandering around in the field surrounding the building. A reporter walks into the frame, looking very out of place in his clean kept suit.

“Early Tuesday morning, Ted Henson, a fifth generation National City farmer, heard a commotion in his cow pasture. When he went to go and investigate he was shocked at what he found.”

The screen flicks again, panning down to an older man in blue overalls and dirt streaked across the bridge of his nose.

“Well,” he begins in a husky drawl, “I woke up around 4:30 to start my morning chores when I heard bellowing in the front pasture. But by the time I got there, five of my cows were lying on their sides in the middle of the field. The rest were bunched up in the corner, hollering up a storm.” He gestures to the fence on the far side, “There was no sign of an attack, no blood. Nothun’. The only thing I could find was a wad of cash. Fresh bills if I ever saw. And a note that apologized about the cows and hoping that the cash would make up for it.”

It blinks back to the newscaster, sitting tall in her chair. “Autopsies show that the cause of death for these animals was blood loss. Although veterinarians are at a loss as to how this had occurred with no outward sign of injury to the animals. Officials are still investigating the situation.”

Kara rubs at her eyes before pulling a blanket from the back of her couch and pushing her face into the pillow, falling instantly back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I'm not 100% happy with how this chapter is. I don't know it feels really fillery and the end is like super random. But i promise it is important. I'm really excited for the next chapter because i have most of it written and i think you guys will like it.  
> I just wanted to say thank you for everyone who liked or commented on this story. It really means a ton to me!! And please leave comments. I honestly thrive on reading what you guys have to say.  
> Oh! and as a side note, the scene where kara sees Lena again, i dont know if i wrote it clear enough, but lena doesn't have a black eye but rather dark rings under her eyes... like when you are super tired. I hope that's what you guys got out of that... idk.  
> anyways! Thanks for reading!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay first sorry this took forever to update. Second there are mentions of death in this so please be wary! and check out the notes at the end for some clarifying stuff after you read this chapter.

Quite honestly, Kara is miserable.

Professor Carr just assigned her to cover the launch of the Venture, the junior class just decided to start a protest in the middle of campus (and administration is blaming her for not keeping the peace), the printers for the National Inquirer have broken down, and it’s about a hundred and ten degrees outside.

She’s sweltering and the fact that her hair has blimped out three times its normal size in this weather is not helping at all. Not to mention she hasn’t seen or heard from Lena in _three_ days and it’s getting rather ridiculous. Their project for Professor Non is due in four days and she _certainly_ isn’t going to start it all on her own. (That’s a lie. She’s already done with the first couple of pages.)

The stress is starting to get to her and she is fairly convinced that she might be losing her overly large hair.

She’s in the Inquirer’s office when she has just had enough. Without much fan fair she cuts off a journalist midsentence. A quirked brow and a raised palm enough to stop his rambling. Releasing a tired sigh, she does a quick spin on her heel and practically sprints out of the room. The journalists follow like a gaggle of baby goslings behind her, but somehow she’s manages to dodge and sneak away, out of the building and away from the cluster that is her day today.

Skirting the panicked shrieking of the reporters for the Inquirer, and the shouts from the protestors in the main courtyard she finds a rather secluded bench on the far edge of campus. It’s barely in the shade, but Kara feels ten degrees cooler, tucking sticky strands of hair behind her ears.

Leaning back, she closes her eyes and rests her head against the back of the bench. There is the barest of breezes swaying through the trees, but it’s enough to offer some relief from the unrelenting heat of the day. And best of all, Kara is completely alone. No yelling. No questions. Nothing.  

Nice. Peaceful. Silence.

“Kara?”    

“Jesus,” she nearly falls off the bench, her eyes rocketing open to find none other than Lena Luthor standing before her. Kara gives her a once over, a hand resting over her wildly palpitating heart.

Lena at least has the decency to look sheepish for nearly giving Kara cardiac arrest.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you might have heard me approaching,” she motions over her shoulder.

Kara glances behind her, the path having been completely empty only seconds before. “No,” she shakes her head, “sorry I was…” she waves absently, cutting herself off, not knowing where she was wanting to go with that.

She motions for Lena to sit down, fanning her face in the process, the adrenaline rushing through her system making her even hotter. She can feel her cheeks blooming into a healthy shade of red, the slow trickle of sweat down her neck.

“How are you not dying right now?” she asks, gesturing to Lena, who as-per-usual is wearing all black. A thick leather jacket, black jeans, and black boots. She has got to be just positively suffering in this weather.

Lena tilts her head back, light dances across her cheek bones, seemingly absorbing the sun’s rays. She’s looking remarkably better. Her skin a shade darker, her hair bright and tousled around her shoulders. A cutting image from what she looked like last week.

She hums, pushing her sunglasses up on the top of her head, ruffling the soft hairs along her face. “I’ve always loved the heat. The way it feels against my skin. It makes me feel alive.”

Kara purses her lips at that, because that’s a little _weird_ , but doesn’t comment.

It’s quiet for a moment. The silence stretching once more. “You know,” Kara starts. Lena turns to look at her, green eyes drinking up the verdant from the trees around her. “I think this is the first time that I’ve seen you… like during the day.”

Lena’s lips tick up at that. “I’m a night owl.”

“And yet you enjoy the sunshine.”

That gets a chuckle out of her, “Yes. I suppose it’s a duplicitous of me.” 

Kara smiles and turns her body, pulling her leg up onto the bench, to face Lena more fully. “So,” she reaches out, tapping the back of her fingers lightly against Lena’s shoulder, “what’s up. How are you doing? Non said you were gone for personal health reasons.”

Well, that was real smooth. Years of asking personal questions and Kara goes with the bluntest route possible. Real smooth.

The softness of Lena’s lips leave as it turns into a frown. At least she doesn’t look like she wants to bolt. Not yet at least.

Lena deflects the question anyways. “I think I should be asking you that.” Her face turns down at her lap, hands twisting nervously in her lap.

Kara reaches out once more, pushing silky hair off Lena’s shoulder, drawing the brunette’s attention back to her. “Completely concussion free,” she tries, urging her smile to bring back Lena’s own. It doesn’t work.

“There are a few blanks here and there, but,” her brow raises, “I have a feeling you may be able to fill them in.”

“I’m afraid,” Lena stops herself short. Kara watches her throat bob, the muscles constrict as she fights with the words she is trying to swallow down. “I’m afraid I’m not going to be much help. After we fought?” her voice pitches at the end throwing the sentence into a question. “I ended up just going and grabbing my stuff and leaving. I was walking home when I found you.”

She fidgets with her sleeves, clearly wanting Kara to fill the silence, but Kara waits her out. “Your backpack was gone and I don’t know… I picked you up and rushed you to the hospital.”

“You carried me the ten blocks to the hospital?”

Lena winces at that, “Adrenaline?” she tries. Kara hums, not convinced at all.

“Listen, Kara,” Lena shifts, her hand comes out and hesitates just above Kara’s forearm. She blinks a few times, clearly struggling with something, before she shakes her head minutely and places the gentlest hand on Kara’s jean clad knee. “I’m so sorry about yelling at you. If I-I hadn’t said anything. You wouldn’t have been out there and that guy wouldn’t have attacked you and-and I’m so sorry.”

Kara goes to place her hand on top of Lena’s, but the girl jerks away before Kara can make contact. She tries not to flinch at the action, but Lena clearly catches it and turns away once more, her spine going straight against the back of the bench.

“Lena,” Kara cracks.

“I have to go.” The girl gets up abruptly. She glances at Kara before shaking her head and turning away.

“I’ll see you later, Kara.” She throws over her shoulder.

A reply is on Kara’s lips, but Lena is gone before she can get a word out.

She tries not to focus on the fact that her heart is still trying to beat its way out of her chest long after Lena leaves.

* * *

 

The library is quiet at this hour. Hardly anyone left in its winding aisle ways and towering bookshelves.

Kara has tucked herself into a corner, laptop propped onto her knees, feet kicked carelessly up on the desk.

There’s a pop behind her and Kara turns to find Lena walking towards her. “Kara,” she greets. “Are you ready to start our project?”

“It’s due tomorrow, Lena. I’ve already started on it.”

Lena hums, dropping into the chair next to Kara not looking at all apologetic. She pulls her bag into her lap and tugs out a sleek laptop. “Well, it’s a good thing I’ve started on it as well.”

Kara can’t help but chuckle and she doesn’t miss the upturn of Lena’s lips.

* * *

 

Lena finds Kara back in the library the next night. Except this time she comes bearing gifts.

“I brought you a coffee,” she states, a smile gracing her crimson painted lips, putting a caramel macchiato in front of a dozing Kara (who promptly startles awake from the intrusion).

“God,” she blinks a few times, trying to soothe out her hair where her hand had ruffled it from her impromptu nap. “You are like freakishly good at sneaking up on people.”

Lena smirks, “In my defense you were asleep this time.”

“Still.” Kara pokes, eyes widening comically.

Lena sits across from her this time and takes a sip from her cup. Kara looks at her own. Caramel macchiatos are her absolute, all time, favorite coffee drinks. Oddly, enough she doesn’t remember ever telling Lena that. Taking a grateful sip and relishing in the rich maple flavor.

She catches Lena’s eyes over the top of her cup before the girl’s ears redden and she hastily looks away. Nervous hands wrap around her own cup, spinning it frantically around.

“Did you go to two different coffee shops?”

A prim brow raises. Lena looks down to her own cup. The black cup with red lettering a stark contrast to Kara’s white and green. “Cup O’ Joe is the best. Of course I did.”

Kara hums, reaching for Lena’s mug, “Can I try yours?”

“No!” Lena shouts, spitting out some of her coffee in the process. Her hand lashes out grabbing her cup before Kara can. Her face goes slack with shock, almost as if she is surprised by her own reaction.  

“Well alright. No need to get feisty,” Kara insists. The girl chokes on her words for a few minutes, before saying something about not liking germs.

She gives Kara a rather pained look before she cites a bogus excuse and sprints form the library.

Kara is left stuttering after her, drops of Lena’s reddish coffee covering her book pages.

* * *

 

Their nightly library sessions extended out multiple weeks. Lena always bringing Kara a coffee because she ‘looks like she is about to drop dead from exhaustion’.

It’s nice really. And when Lena asks for Kara’s phone number with pink tinged cheeks, Kara is really glad she decided to sit next to the brooding girl in the back of the classroom. 

It’s not until a week later- a week filled with emoji bursting texts from Kara and dry, sarcastic humor from Lena- that dark and gloomy finally asks Kara out. All stammering words and bright tipped ears.

“Would you do me the honor of coming over to my house for dinner, Kara?”

It’s formal and adorable and Kara loves it.

“It would be my pleasure.”

She tries not to laugh at the breath Lena heaves, relief running down her slightly paler than usual face.

* * *

 

Lena’ house in one word is incredible. Sharp lines, clean colors, and walls made of windows tucked deep into the woods. A contrast of millennial human life to the age old natural world.

The house is tucked into a slight hill and Kara is embarrassingly out of breath by the time she gets to the top. But oh man is it worth it. The picture windows give Kara the greatest view into the house where a one Lena Luthor is _dancing?_ around. Her hair is down and wild and her cheeks are flush and even from outside Kara can hear the music. Its jaunty with the right amount of punk and it is oh so Lena.

Lena is mid-arm flail, mid-spin when she catches Kara’s bemused smirk. The music cuts off almost immediately and a very bright red Lena comes running to the door, lacking all composed indifference that she had before.

“Kara, hey,” she breathes out.

Kara points to the windows, “That was uh…”

Lena’s lips purse, “Yes. Can we pretend that didn’t happen?”

“Oh no. That was great.” She pushes Lena’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you come out of your shell a little.”

Kara watches a crimson lip being tugged between teeth before, “I guess you bring the best out of me.”

Their eyes connect and wow. Maybe this was what all those romance novels were talking about.

Lena looks down, licking her lips and clearing her throat, before stepping aside and ushering Kara inside.

If Kara thought the outside of the house was incredible, well she was sorely mistaken because the inside is spectacular. Vaulted ceilings, stone floors, sweeping windows, and paintings. Hundreds of paintings line the walls. Some look ancient, others modern. It’s like an art museum and suddenly Kara feels very out of depth.

“Lena,” Kara breathes, “your house is incredible. Do you live here by yourself?”

“Yes,” she begins, glancing over to Kara’s bewildered look. “When my parents passed they left me with everything.”

God, Kara wants to smack herself in the face. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. “Lena, I-I’m so-”

She’s cut off, “There is no reason to be sorry, Kara. It was _long_ ago.” She gives her a soft look before continuing on.

“So um,” she scratches the back of her neck, “I was thinking we could make our own pizzas. I thought it might be fun.”

“A girl after my own heart,” Kara jokes, missing the way Lena’s head whips to her at the words.

She makes a quiet comment, that Kara misses before Lena guides her to the kitchen, a hovering hand on her lower back. And, _God_ , it’s like Lena’s house is pulled straight out of an HGTV show. The floors are probably bamboo, the countertops look like a marble imported straight from Italy. And the back windows, oh the back windows, are slid open, the night breeze wafting in with the woody, earthy, right before it rains smell.

A mountain of cheeses, meats, and veggies sit on the counter top, undoubtedly a professional grade set of knives sitting next to them. Clearly, Lena is expecting Kara to eat like a dozen teenage boys.

“Wow, you went all out,” she comments, shifting closer, eyes marveling at Lena’s arms as they slowly roll up her sleeves.

Lena’s eyes brighten at that, her lips quirking, as she glances to the piles of food. “Oh, I forgot the marinara sauce in the fridge.”

Kara shifts, wanting to be able to make use of her nervous twisting hands, “I’ll grab it.”

That gives Lena pause, her eyes going comically wide, "No! Kara, wait!" She reaches towards the fridge. 

Fingers dust over the back of Kara's hand and suddenly her world shifts. She can feel her hip check the cabinet and her elbow slam the countertop. But her eyes. Gone are the glistening marble tops and the deeply stained oak doors. 

A room swims around Kara, light flickering from a nearby torch. A man swarms her face, beak mask firmly in place, whisking some sort of herb over her body. Everything  _hurts_. A horrible, stinging, burning pain. She struggles to sit up and when she looks down her arms were covered in oozing boils. 

She can’t help the scream that rips through her throat. The man is pushed aside and suddenly Lena’s face is before her. Skin flawless and eyes just as green. Only now they are red around the edges, tear tracks leaking down her face. 

"I’m so sorry she whispers," gripping Kara's hand, knuckles to her lips. Kara goes to say something, but only a gasping, wet breath is released.

Kara blinks and suddenly Lena is gone.

Instead she is surrounded by hundreds of sneering faces, shouting obscenities at her. 

And then her world is aflame. Everything is burning, burning, burning. She watches helplessly as flames flicker around her ankles and dance up her legs. The screaming is horrendous until she realizes its coming from herself. She catches a glimpse of green in the back of the crowd before the world goes dark once more. She running, barely keeping up with the hand tugging at her. Smoke plumes sweeping around her, clogging her nose. Suffocating her. 

The street is on fire, the heat roaring down on her, the city burning to the ground all around her. 

"Kara!" A shout as her feet trip and stumble. Dark hair arcs over her, Lena lurching into view. "We have to run!"

"I can't she gasp," eyes watering and throats closing.

She blinks.

The walls are ripped apart. Chunks of brick flying through the air like leaves on a gentle breeze. 

Arms tighten around her. A hand curling into her hair and pulling her face into a neck. 

She can hear the roof as it is torn from the house. The winds ripping at her skin. "I'm so sorry Kara."

She blinks. 

She can barely breathe as she feels the floor shake beneath her. The tv screen flicks to the news reporter, shock etched across her features. 

"A plane has crashed into the north tower." It’s a simple statement, but oh so devastating.

She sets her cup down- her hand wrinkled and liver spotted- shaking from either fear or age she doesn't know. The coffee sloshing onto the break room countertop.

Kara stumbles to the window, her breath fogging the glass as she watches the building flame and start to crumble. 

A gentle hand lays itself on her waist. She's always been generous with her touches. Supple with her caresses. 

Lena's face appearing in the glass next to her. As young and beautiful as ever. 

"Kara, you need to get out of the building." It's whispered, but Kara feels it shock through her body. 

"What about you?"

Lena smirks at that. "Well, if my eternal 22 year old body, is any indication. I think I'll be fine."

Kara can feel herself smiling. Feeling stupid for the question. She knows that Lena doesn't age. Their relationship had crumbled slightly under Kara's hesitancy as her own body betrayed her yet Lena's stayed youthful. But Lena had stayed by her side through it all.

She grabs at Lena's hand, feeling her thumb skate over her knuckles. "I lo-"

She barely hears the rumble of an engine. Barley sees the tip of a planes wing before it goes black.

The kitchen comes slamming back into her. Her body collapsing to the ground.

Nausea roars through her body and she retches, ungraceful and unbalanced. "What the  _fuck_  was that," she screams, eyes frantically searching around the room. 

They land on Lena. They land on a horrified face and streaming tears. They land on Lena and suddenly Kara knows. 

And it's like everything makes sense. Every pains she's ever endured. Every triumph she has ever gained. They all makes sense and when Lena catches her eye it's like all of Kara's pieces are suddenly back in place. 

She has known thousands of people in her lifetimes. She has had family and friends and lovers. She has known suffering and loss. She has known love and life. But through it all. There has only been one. 

It's Lena. It's always been Lena. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so that was a journey there at the end. And i promise i will clarify in the next chapter. But in case you were wondering These are the moments that Kara sees (Black Plague 1340s) (Witch burnings 1570s) (Great burning of london 1660s) (Great galveston hurricane 1900) (9/11).   
> Oh! and her is what i envisioned Lena's house looking like https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/DIWwpYY73KjXA4fksPJBArC1lyc=/0x0:818x546/1200x800/filters:focal(388x229:518x359)/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/52743785/MU_architecture_estrade_residence_montreal_canada_designboom_02_818x546.0.jpg
> 
> As always, i thrive off of your comments so if you think you know what is happening let me know if you are curious about something let me know! Some of you have guess correctly about what Lena is and i hope that as this story progresses things get more interesting for you my lovely lovely readers!
> 
> Anyhoo,
> 
> much love LoKandGoT

**Author's Note:**

> Oh and if anyone is wondering this is kind of what I envisioned Lena's hair to look like: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/6d/ed/54/6ded547b4350f39a4f17ef223f31c525.jpg
> 
> I really loved Lesly-Oh's version of punk!Lena and with her permission I based my Lena off of her design!


End file.
